Your Worst Nightmare
by idealwolffang
Summary: The Joker kicks Harley Quinn out... again. However, this time Harley is determined to prove to the world that she doesn't need her puddin'. Instead, she tries to join the Master of Fear. Yes, this is a ScareyQuinn fanfic, and yes I do ship it. I have no shame.
1. Prolouge

**Hi guys! I'm writing another story about a horribly underrated ship. (If you ask me, it's horribly underrated.) I just want this to be a cute little story about two of my favorite characters. Just to warn you, Riddler will have several cameos because he's my favorite and because I have a head-canon that he's Jonathan Crane's friend... kinda.**

**Anyhoo, on with the story now. Hope you guys like it!**

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><p>Harley gripped her suitcase tightly. She was angry. Angry at The Joker. Angry at Batman. Angry at all of Gotham. As far as she was concerned, they could all go into a hole and die.<p>

She's been kicked out… again. But this time, she felt different. She didn't mourn the loss of her _puddin', _she didn't feel any desire to return. She'd been hurt one too many times.

Sure… she'd probably end up going back. She always did. But she wasn't hurrying to get there.

But Harley knew there was more to her criminal career. She wasn't about to go good yet… but she also didn't want to be a stand-alone Rogue. She liked being a partner… but with who?

Red was always an option. In fact, she could go full time with the Gotham Sirens if she wanted.

"No… Red's in Arkham…" She mumbled, pulling her suitcase closer for comfort. She was starting to feel the anger subside and the depression setting in.

And Selina… well she was always busy chasing Batman. Harley definitely didn't want to be part of that.

Who else could she go to?

Penguin? No.

Hatter? Definitely not. The last thing she wanted was to be his Alice.

Riddler? He was tiring to spend more than an hour with. Plus, she never could solve his riddles. He probably saw her as a waste of time.

...Joker? No. She was done with him!

Harley's mind faltered and a tear leaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She was so unsure of her future… but wasn't that just what a Rogue's life was? Danger and uncertainty?

Then she remembered. There was one person in which she felt like she could confide in. She'd worked with him before… briefly.

She smiled slightly, feeling a fleeting flutter of hope.

Surely old Dr. Crane couldn't turn a poor, lost intern away.


	2. Chapter 1

Harley wandered near The Narrows. Surely she could find out exactly where The Scarecrow was hiding here.

The stench of cigarette smoke hung in the air, making her cringe. She'd always hated the smell, but The Narrows was gonna smell like The Narrows was gonna smell.

She walked into the first likely bar, and ordered some water. She _wanted_ to be drunk, to forget everything… but she also wanted to find Jonathan. She couldn't do that if she was too tipsy to walk straight.

"Harley Quinn? What are _you _doing here this fine evening?" A familiar voice asked. Harley set down her drink and sighed.

"Hello Eddie."

"Is something wrong, Harley? Surely the Joker didn't…" The Riddler stopped short, not wanting to finish his sentence. "I'm sorry, Harley. Forget about that clown. He's only ever hurt you."

"I thought he loved me… but I'm beginning to doubt… but I still…" Harley broke off, thee tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but The Riddler still noticed them.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asked, sitting next to her. Harley just nodded.

"I need to find Jonathan Crane. Do you know where he is?" She asked. Edward's face brightened immediately.

"Of course I do. It's the job of a genius to know everything."

Harley just rolled her eyes. Edward's ego could easily be split among five individuals with extra to spare.

"He's hiding in an old farmhouse a few miles out of town. Why do you need to see _him, _of all people?" Nigma asked. Harley just shook her head.

"I feel like I can trust him. We met before we both went to crime," she said, smiling at the memories.

"Do you need a ride?" The Riddler asked, picking up his cane eagerly.

"Sure, Eddie. Thanks," Harley said, smiling weakly at him. Edward may have been annoying, narcissistic, and a little obsessed, but he really was quite sweet at heart… kinda.

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><p>Harley sighed and looked out the windows of the green car. she was quieter than usual, and Edward certainly noticed it.<p>

"Riddle me this! If it's information you seek, come and find me. If it's pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three," The Riddler said, a gleam coming to his eyes behind his mask.

"I'm not in the mood," she said dismissively, making the other Rogue pout.

"Come on now… this one is easy," he encouraged.

"All of them are easy to _you,_" Harley pointed out, a light, forced laugh entering her voice. The Riddler cringed at the sound of the strained laughter that he was so used to hearing come easily.

"That is true," He sighed, not seeing any answer coming from her. "Bookkeeper. You see…"

"I get it Eddie. Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but I really just don't feel like it right now," she said, cutting him off.

"I'm sorry Harley," The Riddler said again. He cursed himself under his breath as he exited Gotham's city limits. The farmhouse was only a mile or so away now.

That mile was driven in silence.

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><p>The Riddler stopped the car in front of the old farmhouse. It was run-down looking at best, with some of the window shutters hanging off of their hinges precariously and sagging steps.<p>

"Thank you for everything, Eddie. I really needed your help tonight," Harley said, giving the man a hug. He smiled slightly, patting her on the back.

"Best of luck to you Harley," he said as she nodded and left the car.

The Riddler usually wasn't so much of a charitable type. Normally he wouldn't pay Harley much attention. He hadn't ever seen her as a particularly intelligent person.

However… seeing the normally laughing, bubbly blonde in such a depressed and… tragic mood. He couldn't ignore that. He prided himself on being better than that sadistic clown who couldn't recognize love from a punch in the face.

The Riddler prided himself on having something that could be mistaken for a heart.

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><p>Harley knocked feebly on the door, only to be met with silence.<p>

"Professor Crane?" she called in softly, trying not to let her voice quaver. "It's me… Harleen."

She hadn't used her real name for some time now… She'd all but left it behind. Why she used it now... she didn't have any idea.

The door opened slowly, and a tall, spindly man looked down at her through rectangle lasses. "Hello child. What brings you here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I need someone to stay with…" Harley said, feeling her eyes water and watching as his face blurred behind the tears.

To say that Jonathan Crane wasn't a little shocked by the blonde's demeanor was an understatement. He had never seen her like this… not at all.

"What happened?" He asked, hurriedly ushering her in and sitting her at an old crate that he was using as a table.

"Mistah J threw me out.. again. I had a suggestion about our plan… and then he got mad and punched me… and…" Harley broke into unintelligible sobs, unable to continue. Everything about it hurt so much... Half of her wanted to go back to her puddin' and make things right, but she knew that would only end in tragedy. It always did.

Jonathan Crane was disgusted.

_That clown has no right,_ He thought, staring at the broken girl sitting before him. Now that he looked, he saw faded bruises on her arms and wrists. There was even a nasty looking scar on her pinky finger. _He has no right to hurt her._

"Cheer up, child. You can stay here," He said, awkwardly placing his hand on her back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

The Scarecrow was not very well versed in comforting people, but he sure as heck was going to try and cheer up one of the only people he'd ever been able to trust.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: And we have another chapter! I'm sorry that it's a little choppy but I am trying to make it work... it just sometimes is impossible for me to achieve that. Meh.<strong>

**I promise it cheers up after this. Harley will be back to her bubbly self in no time.**

**If you have any tips, I will gladly accept them! I need all the help I can get!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Just so you know, this is a flash-back.**

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><p>"Call me Harley. Everyone does!" A bright, cheery voice said. The loud accent hurt Dr. Crane's ears quite a bit. She was obviously from Brooklyn.<p>

"I'd rather not, thank you. And you are sure that you want to work here, Miss Quinzel" he asked, scanning over her file.

"I'm certain, Dr. Crane. There's just something fascinating about these super-criminal minds. I've always been drawn to extreme personalities. There's such a glamour to them." She said, leaning forward excitedly.

"Yes. I do suppose there is something to be said about them… They can be quite… unpredictable." Jonathan Crane was very interested in this new intern. She was smart, certainly. They'd been talking about their own theories before, and she was competent at worst and quite brilliant at best.

"So am I in?" She asked, a charming smile lighting up her face.

"I believe that you are. Good luck, _Dr. _Quinzel_._" He smiled at her, and handed her the files of three inmates for her to work with. She rifled through them eagerly, excited to see her patients.

"The Joker?" She stared at him, her eyes suddenly wide with shock. "I mean- are you sure? he's such a high profile-"

"Do you not think you can handle it?" Dr. Crane asked, smirking up at her in a challenging way. Her face stiffened and she jutted out her chin.

"I can do it. I'll _cure _The Joker," she said.

_Challenges. They _always _work. _Dr. Crane thought, amused, as the door to his office closed. This intern would be interesting to work with.

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><p>"Doctor Crane?" The bubbly voice drifted into his office for the second time that week.<p>

"What is it, Doctor Quinzel?"

"Please, call me Harley," She said, sitting down across the desk from him. "I just wanted to ask a question about Julie Reynolds… the patient from the A wing."

"The Catatonic? Yes. She just came in last week. I assume your session went well?"

"Well… I believe she also suffers from Diogenes Syndrome. She is refusing help of any type.. and she's been collecting _dust bunnies_ and other equally strange things _on purpose._ It sounds like hoarding."

"This may be more serious than we first believed," Dr. Crane muttered, cleaning off his glasses. "Her last therapist didn't see any problems… he thought that she was just refusing her mental state. Anything else?"

"Well… shouldn't we start new treatments?"

"I plan to. I'm taking her off of your list and moving her to a full-time therapist in the B wing. She'll likely be here until she dies, sadly. But that is the way things tend to be with Diogenes. You are certain of this, correct?"

He looked up to see Harley biting her lip nervously.

"We'll have her checked out for it. Thank you for your observations, doctor."

"I'm meeting with The Joker in five minutes," she muttered, barely audible. "I'd better go."

"Good luck to you then," He said, adding to Julie Reynolds' file. Harley left, and Crane smiled.

It wasn't very often that an intern impressed him in their first week.

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><p>"Dr. Quinzel, How have your sessions with the Joker been going?" Dr. Crane asked after her first two weeks of being an intern.<p>

"He is showing signs of Anti-social-personality disorder, as well as Hypomania as far as I can tell," Harley replied, shrugging.

"And do you think that we are helping him?" Crane asked, staring at her coldly.

"I... couldn't say yet..." She sighed, rubbing her temples. "He's such a confusing patient... I feel like he's getting better... but I also just feel like we're moving so slowly, it's almost like treading water."

"I understand exactly where you are coming from," Crane said, sitting down to talk with the girl. "I have sessions with and ASPD patient, and we are getting nowhere. I am considering sending him to a higher-class asylum for extensive care that we don't offer here."

"It's just... The Joker shows no remorse for what he's done. He won't tell me about his childhood yet, nor will he relate anything about his past relationships with _anyone. _It's been nearly impossible to diagnose him, let along know if it's possible to cure him!" Harley ranted, drumming her fingers on the desk. She needed to vent to someone. Might as well be someone who understood.

"We aren't even sure if The Joker remembers his past at all," Dr. Crane said, attempting to make Harley feel better.

"No. He's hinted at it, just to tease me. I know he remembers it, he just won't say anything."

"I'm going to transfer him to another psychiatrist," Dr. Crane said, nodding. "He's too dangerous. I don't want you to get killed. Plus, this job is stressing you out." He started to scribble a note to himself.

"Please don't. I feel... I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere with him, just slowly. I just needed to talk it over with someone. Please, just... let me stay with The Joker. I promised you I'd cure him on my first day, remember?" Harley said, a spark igniting in her blue eyes.

"Are you sure, Dr. Quinzel?" Crane asked, staring at her over his glasses.

"Yes. I _will _cure The Joker."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I'll be placing these little flashbacks throughout the main story line, giving us little glimpses of our two favorite Arkham Doctors. <strong>

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 3

**This is another Flash-back of sorts. **

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><p>Harley had been working at Arkham for a two months now. She had gone through several patients… some were declared sane, while others were transferred to new doctors. The only one that she had kept for the entire time was The Joker.<p>

He'd finally told her all about his childhood, A horrific tale about abuse and hurt. He had joked with her, made her laugh and acted as a friend would.

She was beginning to love him.

And somehow, she was beginning to wonder why the other doctors were so scared of him. She couldn't understand why Gotham was so scared of him.

From their sessions, Harley had found out more than just a cause for his 'mental illness'. She found that he wasn't evil. He was in the right, and it was only because of Batman that he couldn't succeed.

Of course, he had killed people. That still tugged at her mind, reminding her that this man that she was growing to love was, in fact, insane. But was he a bad person?

Not in her opinion.

She was writing a new set of notes on her newest patient. He was something of a pyromaniac and sociopath. Definitely a serious case, who would likely be staying at Arkham for sometime.

"Dr. Quinzel? I came to ask you about The Joker," Jonathan Crane said, walking up to her desk.

"The Joker? What about him?" Harley asked, freezing up.

"He's gone. He seems to have escaped… again."

Harley hadn't seen him escape yet, but she did know that The Joker was notorious for it. It wasn't exactly a surprise.

"Oh. I suppose I should write that up on his file?" she asked, biting her lip. Just another step before The Joker could be declared 'Sane'.

"That won't be necessary. I am transferring The Joker to a different Psychologist when he returns," Doctor Crane stated.

"But I was making so much progress with him! Why stop now?" She asked, her voice near to a whine.

"Because he has killed more therapists than I would like to admit. It's dangerous for a novice like you to continue working with him."

"If he's so dangerous, why did you assign him to me in the first place?" Harley demanded, slamming her fist onto her desk in anger.

"I wanted to scare you. Most interns don't realize the… strain that their job imposes. So I gave you a patient who could get into your mind. One who could show you exactly what we deal with in Arkham."

"But I wasn't scared. He never did anything to harm me, mentally or otherwise," She said, suddenly confused.

"I know. That is _exactly _how he is getting into your head. You'll be given Pamela Isley instead."

"Okay," Harley sighed, realizing that Dr. Crane wasn't going to budge.

But that wouldn't stop her. She _would _see The Joker again.

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><p>Harley paused before continuing down the hallway, a tiny key fitted into her fist. She shivered as the cold metal left an imprint on her palm, as if to remind her of what she was doing.<p>

She finally came across the night guard, who stared curiously at her as she walked in. She smiled as flirtatiously as she could and waved a bit. He just smiled back at her, obviously not at all alarmed by her walking into the C Wing at night anymore.

Manipulation was something Harley was rather well versed in. It was amazing what you could get away with if you played your cards right.

She sighed and walked down the hall, smiling to the few patients in there that she knew.

And there, in cell 44, sat The Joker playing with a deck of cards.

"Hello?" She said quietly, knocking in the glass. His head shot up and he grinned at her.

"Came to see me, Doc? Why, I'm flattered. I've missed you. My new therapist isn't half as interesting, nor as beautiful if I may say," he said, making her blush.

"Thank you, Joker. I just came to say hello," she said, pulling out her key and showing it to him. "Promise to behave?"

"Oh, anything for you, doc!" he said, continuing to grin.

Harley's hand shook as she placed the key into the lock and turned it. The heavy door swung towards her, and she walked in, pulling the door closed behind her.

"So toots… how ya' been?" The Joker said, leaning his head off to the side.

"I've been fine. School has been hard, though," She answered, sitting on the floor next to him. "Are you playing solitaire?"

"No. I'm playing blackjack!" He said, laughing. Harley stared at him, a little confused.

"Blackjack requires at least two players… doesn't it?" She asked, looking at the card layout. "And that certainly seems like solitaire…"

"That's the joke toots!" he said, laughing again. "They've filled your head with so much serious mumbo-jumbo. What's the fun in that?"

Harley chuckled, and smiled a little wider. "I get it now. How have you been?" She asked.

"Oh, a few bruises here and there, but the major injuries have healed."

"Injuries… how did you get…" He laughed.

"The Batman of course, doc! Anytime I get caught… WHAM! a punch straight to the face!" The Joker paused to laugh here, and Harley just gasped and felt her heart sink.

"He… hurts you…" She said, feeling so much sympathy for the giggling man sitting next to her.

"Sure does! He does that to everyone here! WHAM!" The Joker said, pointing to Jervis Tetch, a new inmate who had only come that very day. He had a black eye and his left arm was in a sling.

"All of you get… harmed…" Harley said, looking around. She's noticed the bruises and cuts, but had always dismissed them as injuries from fights among the inmates.

"Oh, we all get hurt. it's an occupational hazard, after all," The Joker said, grabbing Harley's arm suddenly. She jolted at his icy touch and turned to look at him.

"I like you a lot, toots. You get us. You understand us all," he said, his eyes shining.

"Thank you for the compliment, Joker," Harley said, feeling her face heat up. "I need to go. I'll come back another time, though."

"See ya later doc! I look forward to you coming again!" He said as she got up and exited the cell.

She paused as she passed Jervis Tetch's cell. He was sitting in the corner, not even noticing her.

"Alice… oh Alice…" he kept whispering. Her heart sank as a tear leaked from his eye, landing onto the bed. "I love you, Alice…"

Harley walked back down the hallway, feeling her heart sink as she looked at the inmates with new eyes.

They were lost souls, who only wanted to be happy.

_Isn't that what everyone wants? Joy? Happiness?_

_...Laughter?_


	5. Chapter 4

Harley was curled up in a sleeping bag laid out on a moth-eaten couch. They were strange accommodations to her, but it didn't really bother her. She felt pretty good, to tell the truth.

She crawled out of the warmth of her sleeping quarters, stretched, and rooted through her suitcase. She was quite tired of her jester suit. Too many memories tied to it… both good and bad. She wanted to be rid of all of them.

"Good morning, Child," she heard Jonathan say softly.

"Morning!" She said back, smiling as much as she could. She was a little embarrassed about her behavior the night before.

"I see that you are feeling better," he said, awkwardly handing her a piece of toast and a jar of strawberry jam. Harley nodded as she began to spread the sugary red goodness on the dry toast.

"I think I'll recover," she giggled, her messy pigtails flopping about her head.

"Hmm. Perhaps," Jonathan said, nibbling on his own plain toast. He didn't really like jam all that much.

"Thanks for helping me, Dr. Crane," Harley said, smiling weakly at him. He smiled back, a rare occurrence.

"It's alright, child. You are welcome to stay here until you get back on your two feet." He breathed out, feeling some sort of loss. She was bound to leave before too long.

While Crane would never admit it, he had a lot of respect for Harleen Quinzel. Sometimes he wondered if it extended beyond mere respect. She was one of the few people that he could tolerate being around, even if she had changed when she met The Joker. Her bright attitude had never annoyed him as much as he thought it should have, and he knew that she only acted dumb to impress the clown.

He had known her before she had been tainted. Brilliant, cheerful, and beautiful.

He really missed that Harley.

"You know Johnny, maybe I could help you," Harley said sometime in the mid-morning. He himself had been peacefully reading _Phobias: The Science of Fear_, a personal favorite of his. He cringed at the use of the nickname that she had assigned to him several years ago, and still insisted on using.

"Pray tell.. what do you mean, child?" He asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"Well… I don't know what I want to do in life now," she said, pausing slightly before continuing. "So… maybe I could stay here and help you with your crimes…"

"You mean be my sidekick?" Jonathan asked, blinking in surprise. The thought hadn't really occurred to him in a while. Back before she'd gone off the deep end, he had dreamed that she might help him pursue the power of fear.

"Yeah. That," Harley said, smiling a little. "I don't wanna go back yet."

That one word. _Yet._ It stung him like a slap across the face. It was just restating the obvious, but it still hurt.

Harley Quinn would _always _return to The Joker.

"Out of the question. I have no need for a sidekick," Jonathan crane said, waving the notion off. Why get attached to something that would simply be stolen later?

Harley just pouted in response. Jonathan held in a bout of light laughter that rose up in his throat at the sight of the childish face.

"Why not work with Poison Ivy? I'm sure that she would like to break out of Arkham" Jonathan suggested. Harley's eyes brightened at the mention of her friend, and she smiled a little.

"Yeah… Red would like that," Harley said, her smile breaking into a grin. "But you've been so nice to me…"

"As I said, I have no need of a sidekick," He said, rolling his eyes. He then added, "Not that Poison Ivy does either," under his breath. The truth was that _nobody _needed a sidekick.

"I guess so.." Harley sighed, rubbing her temples.

Jonathan sat back in the old chair, listening to the wood creak under his weight.. He felt at peace, which was not something he generally felt.

He had a strange feeling that this foreign feeling was because of Harleen.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Wow! It has been a long while since updated. I have no excuse other than spotty internet and school being busy.<strong>


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